Could We Maybe Talk About This Never
by gannymcmanny
Summary: Donnie and April have recently started dating and are finally forced to address some awkward relationship roadblocks (AKA your classic 'Don has major body issues and is deathly afraid of April seeing his downstairs business' story).
1. Chapter 1

What up! I wrote this self indulgent, meandering mess of PWP because no one stopped me (I freaking ship these two dorks, man). It's a two parter, first part from Donnie's POV and second from April's. Donnie and April are 18 and 19 respectively.

* * *

Fact: Donnie loves April.

Like, seriously. Donnie. _Loves_. April. 100 percent eternal, unconditional, head over heels would-die-for-her-in-a-heartbeat love.

He loves her bravery, her dedication and strength of character, her scientific curiosity and that big, beautiful brain of hers, her sharp wit and sense of humor, her laugh, her voice, her freckles, the cute pouty face she makes when she's annoyed about something, anddd the list pretty much goes on forever.

And if he was being honest with the world, the force-of-one-thousand-Hypergiant-class-stars love he harbors for April meant that she also, well, "_really_ got Donnie going," if you will. She got his DC Series motor a'runnin'. Made him hot under the collar - er, shell. Fired up his insides like patties on a grill on the Fourth of July. Insert some other lame euphemism for sexual attraction here. It had never mattered to Donatello that April was a human and he was not; he was perfectly capable of feeling _that _way about her. Always had been.

Oh, man, the _dreams_ he used to have when he was a bit younger, and much more naive. He almost wants to laugh thinking about them now (not that he doesn't still have _those _dreams about the redheaded Kunoichi, they're just much less 'embellished' these days).

Many of Donnie's younger teenage dreams would begin the same way: he'd catch her alone after a successful world-saving adventure together, noticeably suaver, braver, and cooler than he was in real life; inevitably there would be some epic, mutual confession of love, then he'd lean down with all the confidence in the world and kiss April senseless, with _lots_ of tongue, and she would moan into his mouth and hop into his arms, her strong, perfect legs wrapped around his shell, her arms tight around his neck so their bodies were practically molded to each others', and then they'd… er, etcetera etcetera.

Put frankly, post the age of five, the most intelligent and reserved of the turtles had never had a problem with ruining his bedsheets as he slept - that is, he'd never had a problem with it until he met April O'Neil.

But even though April makes Donnie feel hot all over and his stomach flip-flop with excitement _way_ more easily and frequently than he would _ever_ care to admit, he's kind of been forced to get _pretty darn good _at hiding it. What with all those years of one-sided pining over his best friend, Donatello has (sometimes very narrowly) dodged and weaved his way around plenty of awkward boner situations — a notably high percentage of them concentrated within the last month or so of his life, whaddaya know — but miraculously, even with Donnie now holding the (unbelievable, incredible) title of "April's boyfriend" (_boyfriend!) _for the last 7 weeks, 2 days, and approximately 22 hours, so far he has managed to avoid scarring her for life with his weird mutant anatomy. Which is a _very good thing._

It's getting a little hard for Donatello to keep this up, however, given the increasingly heated kissing that's been occurring between them lately (pretty much always initiated by his _very_ assertive girlfriend - he's not out to push his absurdly good luck, here). And Donnie hasn't totally figured out how to cope with this new, equal-parts-exciting-and-nerve-wracking development in his and April's romantic relationship, yet. And they _sure _as heck haven't talked about it yet, or even come close to approaching the awkward subject of sex - AKA, the awkward subject of the inevitable lack of any sex in their relationship. Because he is a _giantmutant turtle_, obviously, quite literally a freak of nature, so... obviously April is never going to consider doing anything like _that _with him, never going to want him like _that_, which is entirely, heartbreakingly _fair_ of her, because… well, see beginning of sentence.

Making out is one thing. And with (lots of) April's encouragement, they've even managed to fumble around second base a few times without Donnie getting so overwhelmed he passes out, but… April actually _seeing _him down there? Allowing him to get anywhere near her with it once she realizes exactly what she's dealing with? _That_ is a whole other… thing.

It hurts a little bit to think about, yes, but he's just being realistic, here. Besides, he's had years to come to terms with it. He'll be forever grateful that this beautiful human girl (who could easily be with any guy she wanted!) still wants to be with him at all despite the assured lack of intimacy on that front, man, she has no idea. And honestly, any form of sex with April had always been such an outright impossibility in his mind, it feels pretty normal to him that it's going to stay that way, in spite of their relatively new status of being "official."

Donnie is _unbelievably_ happy with the way things are now; seriously, having the love of his life actually returning his feelings is a total dream come true.

But. There is still the matter of the fact that Donnie is half turtle, and he does not wear pants, and when he reaches a certain level of arousal there is absolutely NO way for him to hide it much to his chagrin, and he's discovering that it takes a hell of a lot of physical _and_ mental stamina to literally "keep it in his shell" when his insanely beautiful girlfriend with a bangin' highly-trained-Kunoichi body has a habit of plopping herself down in his lap, grabbing his green cheeks and smushing her lips against his whenever there are no teasing brothers, Kirby O'Neils, or Casey Joneses around to see.

Take tonight, for example. It had started with a standard movie night at April's empty apartment to celebrate her finishing her first round of university midterms - Donnie had helped her cram every night for a week - but halfway through the movie, April had wordlessly climbed into Donnie's lap, taken his face into her soft hands and gazed at him expectantly with those big baby blues, and Donnie does not expect he will _ever _know what happens during the second half of this mediocre romantic comedy, no sir he will not.

Donnie shivers as the stunning girl straddling his thighs places slow kisses along his jawline, all six of his fingers curling into her t-shirt where they hold onto her waist. Holy toledo, April is being extra handsy today and it's already rumbling to life, his _little problem_, and Don is trying his hardest not to let it worry him, to stay in the moment as she lightly drags her fingertips down his plastron. But that is definitely easier said than done. He feels her draw a teasing circle on his pulse with her tongue, and can't hold back the breathy, needy sound that follows, his stomach giddy with heat.

After swiftly removing his belt and elbow pads, April leans back, her arms disappearing into her shirt to grapple around inside of it. Donnie's mouth dries up, his heart beating faster, because this time around he knows _exactly_ what's coming next. Soon she'sdragging both yellow t-shirt and black sports bra over her head, carelessly tossing them away, and even though they've gone this far twice before, Donatello still feels his tongue start to salivate the second her _unbearably_ lovely breasts come into his hyper-focused view.

His hands reach for her before his chivalrous brain can catch up, and he stops halfway to his goal, his eyes darting sheepishly up to hers.

"Ah, may I?" He flashes her his signature nervous-but-eager gap-toothed smile, and she giggles, the airy, musical sound of it sending pure happiness coursing through Donnie's veins.

"Uh, _yeah, _ya may."

April grabs the back of his hands and unceremoniously closes the gap between his speckled palms and her chest, pressing them firmly against herself with a grin.

They share a quiet laugh, both falling silent as Don carefully cups her in his oversized hands, his eyes half-lidded. He'll never be able to get over how _soft_ she is. He brushes the flats of his thumbs back and forth over her nipples, openly fascinated by the way they harden at his touch, then gives them a gentle pinch.

"_Donnie_," April hisses in a sharp exhale, and that's all the encouragement he needs to dive forwards, the tails of his mask trailing in the air behind him. His wide tongue darts out to thoroughly caress a nipple before he delicately sucks it into his mouth. Her arms snake around to cradle his head against her chest as he lovingly kisses and suckles her, both of them starting to breathe hard. She cooes approvingly against the top of his head, and Donnie can feel himself growing hard.

"My god, you are so _gorgeous_," he whispers shakily, dropping kisses along the tops of her breasts, trying to convey his own words to her with every ounce of his heart behind them.

"Mm. You're such a smooth talker, you know that?"

_That's highly debatable,_ Don thinks as he feels her slip a hand beneath his chin, tilting his face so he's gazing up at her. Donnie's breath hitches audibly in his throat, because April O'Neil is a damn _vision_, kiss-swollen pink lips stretched in a coy little smile, her mussed up hair backlit by the movie still playing at a low volume behind them, her blue eyes glinting fondly in the dim light, freckles spattered across her blushing cheeks, chest and shoulders. Forget beautiful - she's _ethereal_.

April laughs at what must be a truly dopey, lovestruck expression on his face. "Man, it's kind of unfair how cute you are. C'mere…"

Donnie's heart skips a beat at hearing April call him 'cute.' The concept of April actually _liking_ the way he looks to some extent has been a hard one for the tall turtle to grasp, even though she's said as much more than a few times by this point.

He wraps his arms more securely around her, dwarfing her in his vast embrace as he catches her parted mouth with his, heads tilting until they're at the angle they've learned is most suited for deep kissing with their differently shaped profiles. And oh, how Donnie _loves_ it. Could _never, ever get enough_ of making out with April. The feel of her tongue gliding into his mouth to run along his own, her nails scratching over the divots and patterns of his carapace, her bare breasts squished against his front as she hums out little noises between the passionate smacks of their lips, oh, gosh… this _still_ feels like it has to be some out-of-this-world fantasy that his lovesick brain cooked up, even as he's living it in real time. How he got this lucky, Donnie will _never_ understand. It'll always be one of those unexplainable phenomena of the universe, and _believe_ him, he doesn't accept the idea of unexplainable things so easily.

When April releases an undeniable _moan_ into his mouth, exactly the way fantasy-April always did in his accursed wet dreams of yesteryear,Donnie feels the awkward boner situation escalate from 'high alert' into 'critical' territory. Oh, no, no, no... ugh, this is pathetic, they're only kissing! Well, she is topless, but still...

He tries in vain to calm himself down - _Come on, Donatello, you got this. Don't freak out, don't be weird, don't make her think anything's wrong! Think of Mikey burping the alphabet in your ear at breakfast this morning. Think of Raph wearing that stupid fedora he insists on keeping. Think of physics. Katas. Casey farting. Tigerclaw in a clown costume. April half-naked and moaning in your - wait, no!_

Donnie winces and switches mental gears, somewhat desperately considering the worst-case scenario for a moment. Maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world? They've been dating for almost 2 months now, maybe, maybe he could somehow ask her, if it'd be okay for him to...

His brain echoes with a harsh laugh before Don can even finish the thought. _Get real, genius! She'll take one single look at you, and it'll be all over._

The old mutant-mushroom fueled hallucination, the one that always felt eerily like a real memory, rears its ugly head again: April but not-April pointing at him savagely, not-April's cruel, cutting voice, her teeth razor sharp as she spits the words at him like venom - _MUTANT, WEIRDO, 3-FINGERED FREAK-_

Donnie forces the non-memory out of his head, but that shameful wish hits him again (the one he could never in a million years admit to having, especially to his brothers), the wish that god, why couldn't he just be a normal human guy with normal-looking junk, who would be able to wear pants, and be free to kiss and touch his girlfriend without having to worry himself to death over stuff like this, _every time._ Gah, he'd give anything to be that normal guy right now, not this mutant hybrid freak who not only can't comfortably wear pants, but who also possesses bodily physiologies enabling him to literally _smell_ just how aroused his girlfriend is becoming right now - come on, how is that at all fair?!

Donnie manages to shift around beneath her and press his legs together without April noticing, but this only delays the issue. He won't deny it, he's overwhelmed, overstimulated and overthinking all of it; he knows he's starting to freak out, and that awareness is only making him freak out more.

His arousal attempts another twinge to freedom, and Donnie groans as quietly as he can through gritted teeth, the frustrating agony of keeping his erection hidden beginning to take its toll on his resolve. He feels April's paint-chipped nails scratching over his trembling shoulders, her strong thighs squeezing his between them, her soft curves pressing tighter against him than he can _ever _remember her being before - and then the smoothest, most perfect lips ever press a hot, _wet_ kiss to his pulse point, and when she catches an inch of his skin between her teeth in that no-nonsense-April way, Donnie thinks he might cry, or die, or both. He squeezes his thighs together as hard as he possibly can, sucking in shallow gulps of air through the gap in his teeth.

"Mm… _Dee_…"

Donnie shudders with a breathless sigh at the sound of his nickname, his eyes shut tightly enough to form deep creases in his purple mask. Her hips do this faint wiggling motion and Donnie _reels_, hardly able to comprehend what's happening.

_Woah woah, is she…!_

His wide eyes immediately seek out April's, and her mouth tugs into a sweet, shy smile before she rolls her hips into the bottom of his plastron again, striking up a tantalizing rhythm as she leans down to kiss him.

Okay, yup, April is definitely grinding on him. Darwin's. Beard.

Donnie is dying. He _must_ be dying, he's sure of it by the sheer force with which his heart is furiously pumping blood, his skin beading sweat all over, his shell unbearably tight. He does his best to kiss her back properly, like the way she deserves, but it's hard when he feels like he can't breathe, not to mention he's deathly afraid of making one single movement underneath her, absolutely _certain_ April will come to her senses and the moment will be ruined if he moves so much as a muscle. He fights to swallow down all of the embarrassingly overwhelmed sounds welling up in his chest, but a few soft whines break free anyway.

Just - the feel of April's body _moving_ that tiniest little bit, like _that_, against _him, _even if it's only an imitation of making love — god, it just sets him on _fire_, his entire body aching for her, pleading for him to just _let go_, his mind trying to distract him from the dire situation at hand by recalling in droves the many many April-and-him-_together_ fantasies that coincide almost _exactly_ with his current reality.

Don grips either side of her plush hips as tightly as he dares, trying frantically to keep it together, to find the resolve to slow her down and figure a way out of this situation, and to maybe stop sweating so damn much while he's at it. But another blasé roll of his gorgeous human girlfriend's hips, and another nearly painful twinge between his legs later, he can feel himself on the cusp of sliding out, right out into the slightly humid air of the room for all to see, for _her_ to see - and that's when the realpanic sets in.

_She'll scream. There's no way she won't scream when it just appears out of nowhere and she sees what she really signed up for. She's going to think you're pushing her for sex, she's going to hate you, she's going to think you're disgusting, she'll never want to touch you again, she'll finally get wise to the fact that this is too much, that it would be too much for anyone, and it'll be all over, you idiot, why can't you just get a damn hold of yourself you stupid, stupid, stupid idiot -_

April's hips pick up speed, and Donnie feels his swollen tail give a dangerous twitch.

Oh god, oh god, not now, not now_, oh godgodgod say something, you have to say something now!_

Hating himself, Donnie forces himself to remove his hands from her hips, opens his mouth, and braces for the worst.

* * *

R.I.P. Donatello ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Part 2 aka the longer, smuttier part to come soon (so I can move on with my life lol). Comments are mad appreciated, thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

So this is the second/final chap, it is smutty and fluffy af and there's a lot of turtle dick in it and it could probably stand to be edited down a few pages and I'm not sorry at all. Enjoy!

* * *

April is busily licking a soft, wet line up the olive curve of her boyfriend's neck — oh wow, she's _really_ getting into this now — when suddenly Donatello goes rigid in her arms, his taut muscles becoming even more rock solid than usual from the strain, the only part of him still moving being the heaves of his plastron as he practically gasps for breath.

"OHgod. Um! April. Could we just, ah, m-maybe take a break for a second, or..."

At the sound of the turtle's obvious distress, April backs off, dazed and maybe just a tiny bit frustrated.

"What's wrong? You okay?"

"F-fine! Fine, I'm completely, I'm - fine." Donnie's features quiver like they're actively fighting the urge to cringe. His mottled green skin is blushing so terribly, it's turning an odd shade of brownish-fuschia, and she's just now noticing how sweaty his forehead is.

"Are you sure this is what fine looks like?" Aprils asks skeptically.

"I'm sorry, I'm just — feeling a little too, uhm. Excited?" Donnie flinches at the admission. "I mean, well. That may not be the _exact_, word I would've liked to use but-"

April's reaches up and gently covers his mouth before he can keep up the nervous babbling. "All right, I got it, Donnie."

She lets out a tiny sigh, sitting back on his legs. Don watches her with a scared expression, stiff as a board and swallowing dryly. "I'm sorry," he repeats quietly, and it breaks April's heart at how much he _means_ it, at the blatant shame and embarrassment in his voice. As if his body reacting to her, showing any physical signs of wanting her, his _girlfriend_, is some terrible, despicable crime against the powers that be or something.

April huffs her disheveled bangs out of her eyes. It's probably about time, overdue really, that she assuages Donnie's fears and shows him how wrong he is about himself.

A spike of nervous adrenaline shoots through her bloodstream at the thought. To be honest, she's not exactly sure _what_ to expect, and it's hard for her to be 100 percent sure she's ready for this. But that fear of the unknown is overpowered by the tingling she feels on her skin, the honeyed warmth currently pooled between her legs. Fooling around with Donnie on the regular has been great, _really_ great, and she's pretty convinced that doing other stuff with him could be great, too. She'd definitely like to try, at least.

April has been mulling over how she might begin to broach this semi-awkward and obviously very _sensitive_ topic with Donnie almost as long as they've been dating, and admittedly, she'd been imagining herself doing not-safe-for-work things with her mutant best friend for much longer than that. But heck, the way she's burning up right now, hot and low in her belly, tonight seems to be as good a night as ever to break down some unspoken barriers between them.

Realizing she's probably been silent for too long, April's blue eyes link up with Donnie's enormous, sad brown ones. And looking at him now, _knowing_ Don is waiting for her to be appalled at him just for being a horny teenager, same as her… the redhead can't help but roll her hips in his lap again, just a little.

"A-April, please," he rasps.

She gives him an innocent smile. "Please what?"

"Don't..." Massive green hands take hold of her waist, shifting her back to put a few inches of space between his hips and hers. "Please, don't do that."

April vainly attempts the joking, nonchalant approach one more time, not quite willing to let it go and dive right into the awkward, heavy stuff. "Or maybe you could put aside your strict ninja honor code for five seconds and just enjoy a good ol' fashioned make out with your girlfriend? Can that be an option?"

He grants her nothing but that flustered, annoyed-Donnie look. No dice.

"You know that's not why I —" April wiggles her eyebrows at him, "Stop that, you know what I mean. It's not as if I don't _want_ to, I'm just! — I'm all..." He looks away, makes a hopeless noise in his throat, his hand motioning vaguely around his lower plastron.

Everything got put on pause so suddenly, and April still feels so hot and bothered and is already missing the feel of his hands on her chest. Her shoulders slump and she sighs through her nose, allowing the quiet to settle in as she fumbles for what to say. Finally, she mutters, "Look, would it really be so bad if we just," she leans in to nuzzle her warm, freckled cheek against Donnie's cooler one, "y'know, let things play out?"

Donnie's head jerks back so he can stare at her, bewildered. He really isn't comprehending what she's trying to tell him - or maybe his sky-high levels of self doubt won't allow him to - but to be fair his specialty has always been science and engineering, not social cues.

"Yes, it sort of would be, so. It's best if I just… cool off for a second. Maybe - maybe we could rewind the movie?"

Sensing the genuine anxiety in his voice, April eases away from him again, and Donnie's posture wilts before her eyes as she does. "Sorry," he tacks on one last soft apology, his face a picture of humiliation and guilt, fear and longing. She can feel all of it radiating off of him like some sort of uncomfortable emotional beacon.

_Aw, Donnie._

"Hey... it's okay, D. Yes, really. I just. Wanted to make sure you knew, I actually… I mean, y'know..."

Ohhhkay. How best to put this? Oh, she is not good at this, the whole 'talking about her own emotions' thing.

Donnie tilts his head, confused, and April's whole face goes aflame with color - like, redder than her hair, aflame - before the (in her opinion kind of very obvious) truth comes out.

"What if, I said I wanted to?"

A strange, nervous laugh barks out of him as Donnie shakes his head slowly, his incredulous amber eyes wide as dinner plates. "Umm. I assure you, you don't."

"_Donnie." _

"_What?_ I'm serious, this isn't something you would… it's not... I promise, it's fine. I'm fine, _we're_ fine, April, you…ya really don't have to."

The contrite edge to Donnie's voice as he says the last part kicks the last lingering bit of pride and embarrassment straight out of April's emotional peripherals. Donnie needs her to step up and be straight with him right now, so she will. Her heart is racing as she takes his face firmly into her hands, forcing him to look her in the eye.

"I. Want. To." Her voice lowers as she touches her forehead to his. "I _want_ to see you, Donnie." She pauses to tenderly press her lips to both of his cheeks, "...Touch you."

"_Gnh_." Donnie visibly shivers in response to her admission, a grunt muffled behind his tightly sealed lips. Sensing a break in his resolve, April dips to languidly kiss his neck.

"So… would that be okay with you?"

"...Y-you're kidding, right?" Don manages to stammer, trailing off into horridly uncomfortable laughter, but April shuts down that angle fast. Her hands fly to her hips, one unflinching eyebrow raising beneath her orange bangs.

"I wouldn't _joke_ about this, Donnie."

Donnie doesn't reply to this, only nods submissively and averts his eyes, curling in on himself. April takes a moment to mentally reach out to him, catches a glimpse of the muddy emotions all tangled up in his heart, and her hard look softens instantly. She touches his hunched shoulder, quirking a kind smile when he glances up at her.

"I mean it, D. I've sort of… wanted to for a while. And I think you might, too?"

Major understatement, but she's not trying to put words in his mouth, here. April tries her hardest to channel the energy of a mature young adult who's perfectly capable of having a very vague conversation about sex with her mutant ninja turtle boyfriend without turning bright, bright pink (keyword tries). Donnie regards her thoughtfully for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally the turtle ducks his head to rub the back of it, mumbling a few words she can't quite make out, since he's talking more to his legs than to her.

"Sorry? What was that?"

He clears his throat politely and mumbles again, just as hushed as before. April makes a face.

"Uh, you're gonna have to speak up there, Don."

Donnie peeks up at her, and it's like an electric current zaps between them as they make eye contact, enough to bowl over April's mental defenses and _consume_ her, a lump forming in her throat, her heart suddenly pounding. Fear still hovers around his aura like a dark cloud, but she's struck by the fact that unlike before, Donnie now allows some of the yearning he's kept under wraps for _so long_ to shine through the gleam in his eyes, the hard line of his mouth. The sound of a distant metro train rattling by fills the silence as their heated staring draws out.

April swallows. She needs to pose the question directly, even though she basically already knows the answer. If Donnie truly needs an out, of course she'll make sure he has one.

"Unless, you don't want me to? That's completely fine, too, we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, or ready for... I - I just thought, maybe…?"

Donatello is still gaping at her with those round, impossibly sweet doe eyes of his, looking as if he wants to say something _very very badly_ \- April decides in that moment, what the hell, she is seriously feeling _some type of way _and it would probably be okay to stroke Donnie's leg while she waits for him to say yes or no. It turns out to be the right call, the leg petting, as only moments after her fingers trail up his sinewy inner thigh to drift just inside the boundary of his shell, just for a second or two —

"_Yes, ohgodApril,_" Donnie blurts out. His expression drops like a stone the second the hoarse outburst leaves his mouth, and April has to repress the urge to laugh at the extremely mortified look on his face. His Adam's apple bobs heavily and he mutters, much quieter, "I — I want you to."

April grins ear to ear. "Yeah?"

Donnie nods just a little too vigorously to be cool, making a valiant effort to smile back as normally as possible. Now that she has the _official_ green light, April edges closer to him on her knees, carefully watching his reaction as she slides her arms between his shell and the back of his neck. Her heart is booming against her ribcage as she leans in slowly, able to witness Don's eyes flutter shut before their lips meet - but he kicks in the breaks after only seconds, somehow already breathless.

"I - jus'don't want to freak you out or, or make you uncomfortable," he forces out the words, more of a croak than anything, "...don't want anything to change."

_To change your mind._ April can practically hear the real end of his sentence.

"I'm not going to freak out. And things might change a little, but... it'll be for the better. Trust me, Donnie."

"I do trust you," Donnie breathes, "more than anything."

At that April closes her eyes and kisses him softly, one hand cupping his cheek.

"Lie back," she whispers against his lips.

With her other hand splayed on his plastron, she can feel the way his heart is hammering as he gingerly obeys her direction until his head hits the pillow; April follows him down to start kissing along his collarbone.

"Wait, I… can we turn out the lights?" Donnie gasps shyly.

"Mm-hm." Without missing a beat April reaches over and yanks on the light string of her bedside lamp, plunging the room into semi-darkness. She can see Don swallow hard in the dim light of the television, plus the city lights creeping through the drawn curtains.

"It's okay... just relax."

April continues her path of little kisses, grazing her lips softly up his neck, under his jaw. She starts kissing his lips the way she was before, her tongue delving into his mouth to tease his. Donnie seems to lose himself in the moment for a while, but freezes when her hand traces the groove right down the middle of his leathery, scratched up plastron, all the way to the bottom edge of his shell.

She doesn't even have to look at him to know Donnie is back to making that dread-filled, the-world-is-about-to-end face, and that he's about to open his mouth to repeat yet again that she doesn't have to do this, and April doesn't particularly want to hear it, lest she lose a bit of her nerve.

"Are y-"

Whatever he was about to say, too late, her hand has already taken the plunge to feel around the previously off-limits area between his legs, and the rest of Donnie's sentence abruptly dies in his throat. Right off the bat her hand runs into… something.

April blinks a few times.

"Ah, is that…?"

"My- my tail," Don supplies quickly, before she can get any wrong ideas. His eyelids are squeezed shut very tightly under his purple mask.

"Oh."

She totally, totally knew the tail thing was coming, totally (or she _should_ have at least, god, they really should have talked about this beforehand huh). An excruciating three seconds of silence tick by.

"...Is it okay if I…"

"Um. Y-yeah."

"Do I just-"

"Yup," Donnie squeaks, and then makes an odd, high-pitched '_hurk_' sound as April tentatively grasps half the length of the textured, pointed appendage in her hand, not entirely sure what she's supposed to do with it. She hasn't run into much of anything else down here yet, and is trying to keep her promise to Donnie and _not_ freak out.

_Does he-? What is-? Where the heck is his…?_

Her exploring thumb makes contact with wetness, and she slides it further up to discover a split in his skin just beyond his tail, or sort of partly on it, too - one that seems to be beading fluid and bulging outwards, something hard yet soft just beyond-

_Oohh,_ she thinks. _Got it, got it. _

Praying it's the right move - maybe she should be asking for more guidance, but it just seemed to worsen his anxiety when she did it before - April gives his tail a squeeze, grazing her thumb over the silky, pointed head that's gradually parting the damp slit. Donnie's body jerks.

"_Ah_," he grunts harshly, and bites down hard on his lip. She can feel his thigh muscles tensing, see the veins in his neck bulging. He's still refusing to let go, hanging on by a thread, so April delicately dips in her thumb to access a little more of him, brushing her thumb back and forth.

Whimpering in surrender, Donnie reaches up to cover his face with his hand, and with a shuddering exhale and a soft, squelching sound, there he is. All of him, in all of his, um…_massive_, unique glory. April's clear blue eyes go perfectly round as she takes in the sight for the first time.

He's definitely a little different... okay a lot different. But not so different that she can't figure out what to do with him, at least?

"Woah," the word slips out in whispered awe before April can stop it. Donnie of course, takes it the completely wrong way.

"I - I'msosorry, this was a bad idea—" He's in full blown, code-red abort-abort-abort panic mode, attempting to sit up, shield himself from view and scoot away from her all at the same time. April's hand shoots out grip his sculpted arm before he can make his escape.

"No, no, it's okay! It's okay Donnie, don't be sorry, _I'm_ sorry, I just meant-" the words pour out in rapid-fire as she eases the turtle back down to the bed, flustered as well as feeling immensely guilty for not being more tactful about her initial reaction. "Definitely not woah in a bad way! Just, you know, you've got…" April struggles with her words, her face on fire.

_Question, how do I tell my boyfriend that that is the biggest dick I have ever seen and I don't understand where he was keeping all of it and the color and the fold-things and stuff just caught me a little off guard that's all without embarrassing him? Answer: I don't!_

"...Quite the substantial... situation goin' on there," April finishes, inwardly cringing at her lame choice of words but still attempting to keep her voice sexy and complimentary.

Donnie doesn't pick up on the compliment. "If it's too weird, we can stop," he says in a tight, humiliated voice.

Now is the part where she needs to kiss him, because the poor guy is so clearly _freaking out_ and she is being the _worst girlfriend _and failing hard at saying anything comforting — so she does, tenderly covering his longer mouth with her smaller one the best way she knows how, and keeps kissing him and kissing him until the tension in his muscles relaxes a bit.

"I wouldn't do anything I didn't one hundred percent _want_ to do with you," She murmurs against his mouth. "I promise, you're fine, Donnie..."

Gathering all the courage in her heart— she's never done this before, not with human nor mutant turtle, and she doesn't want to say or do the wrong thing again and let him down even further — April reaches down in what she hopes is a confident manner and lets her fingers glide up the underside of the intimidatingly long, glistening shaft lying against his lower plastron.

"..._Way_ better than fine."

Donnie releases a choked gasp, like he's stopped breathing. Sticky wetness catches on her fingertips, and she struggles not to let the slightly weirded-out gut reaction show on her face, especially when the whole thing twitches. Oh my god, this is the real deal, oh my god, oh my god. Her fingers scope out the broad, oddly-shaped head of him, tracing gently over each little fold, and the breath Donnie was holding is forced out of him in the form of a little sob.

The sound makes her grin, and gives April the confidence to wrap her hand the best she can around the thick and surprisingly weighty length in a testing grip. She slides her hand once up and down, faster and harder than she meant to due to the slickness; Donnie's hips jerk, and he makes another strangled sound.

"Ah, sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No," Donnie manages to squeak, "just. S-sensitive."

His entire body is trembling, his eyes screwed shut and his breathing a little too fast to only be attributed to her handy work. Donnie is still in panic mode, she realizes.

"Try to relax," April soothes. "I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

Donnie nods, drawing in a deep inhale and letting it out shakily, his pinched expression relaxing the slightest bit behind the faded purple fabric.

"I want you to feel _good_, D," she whispers, gently massaging the end of his cock within her fist.

"_Nghh_," Donnie whimpers.

The more she touches him, the more delicious reactions she takes in with her eyes and ears, the less foreign and strange it all feels. She repeats the motion and gets the same stifled whine, his hand darting up to hide his face again. She adds in a little twist of her wrist as she works up into a slow, easy rhythm.

Reaching up with her free hand, she carefully tugs Donnie's large hand away to reveal a face that's still a tad too embarrassed and strained in her opinion. His mouth is pursed into a tight line, his breathing careful and staggered through his nostrils. Obviously still holding back.

Just like every other aspect of their relationship, when it comes to intimacy Donnie needs an explicit okay for everything — but that's all right, April doesn't mind giving him all the okays he needs, eager to build his confidence. This time the words he needs to hear come to her easily, and she leans in close to his ear cavity.

"You can make noise if you want," she hums in a low, rich tone. "I like your noises."

Just as she suspected, Donnie does not hesitate to take her up on the offer.

"_Apriiill_," he moans, high pitched and desperate, loud enough to make April infinitely glad her dad isn't home as well as ache between the legs. Little gasps and whines begin to shyly but steadily escape him, and April smirks as she continues to stroke his cock, which is growing slicker by the second, her chest welling with both pride and pleasure.

This is _definitely_ doing something for her.

"That feel good?" She surprises herself with how sultry her voice comes out.

"Nnh, yeah," Donnie answers her dutifully, his hands stroking along her back a bit frantically, as if itching to make themselves useful. "f-feels amazing... _mm_, love you so much April…"

His head digs back into the pillow as he trails off, panting hard, so obviously on cloud nine. April takes the opportunity to nip at his exposed throat, then maneuvering her position to be able to bring her other hand into the fray, one hand stroking while the other teases the sensitive, pointed tip.

"O-oh! God!" Donnie yelps, his hips beginning to twitch with spastic thrusts.

Donnie already looks about ready to bust, and the thought of watching him do that in _her_ bed by _her_ hand sends a flush over every inch of her burning skin and a fresh wave of dampness down below. God help her, she wants to see it happen. _Badly_. She squeezes her thighs together and jacks him faster, tightening her grip around him ever so slightly.

"_Ahn_!" Donnie's whole body is a taut string, wracked with tremors, "I-I-I'm — Ap— I ca—"

"It's okay," April soothes, never faltering in her unforgiving pace. "I want you to."

Donnie wheezes out a small, desperate noise, one large green fist clutching her faded pink sheets in a vice grip, the other pulling her tight against him, almost too tight. Witnessing the effect her voice has on him is _completely_ addicting, not gonna lie, so she keeps talking, doing her best to keep her tone on par with that serene, sultry combination that seems to be working really well for the writhing, panting turtle next to her.

"I love you, Donnie," she breathes, watching his face contort pitifully in response, like he's dying to say it back to her but can't pull himself together enough to form the words. The increasingly riled sounds he's dishing out send a new spike of courage through her heart, and suddenly she's whispering something she wouldn't ever have pictured herself saying before this exact moment. "I want… I wanna see you come."

Don groans in response, a guttural, almost feral sound, his face screwed up in anguish, obviously at the very tippy-tipping point, but still unable to trip into orgasm for some reason. His shell digs hard into her mattress, the bed frame creaking from the added stress. It's... kind of amazing to see him like this, actually, her unspeakably brilliant, usually so careful and controlled best friend on the verge of _losing_ it, so completely at her mercy, his olive colored thighs visibly shaking, his hips thrusting hard into each of her strokes, desperate for release. He's more than ready, and so is she.

_Time to bring him on home, April._

"Yes, D," she purrs, nuzzling her face lovingly against his neck, pausing to lick the salt from his skin before whispering as sensually as she can muster, "god, _yes_, come on Donnie, cum for me."

"_Ga-aahh!"_

Donnie wails out a high-pitched sound as his hips thrust up one last time, _hard_, then begin to tremble. Sticky warmth spills over her hand where it holds dutifully onto his twitching cock, still pumping him very gently. It runs down her arm, spatters over his plastron, drips over the edge of his shell and onto his thighs, the mattress — Jesus, It's enough to send her cheeks back to blazing status, watching him keep coming, and _coming_, hearing him gasp out with each spasm of his belly, "I love you, I love you, I …_haa-ah_ ... o-ohh, _guh, April_… "

April doesn't bother holding back the pleasantly surprised smile that spreads across her face. Um, holy shit. Not that she thought it wouldn't be, but seeing him like this is so much..._hotter_ than she was expecting. She can feel how ridiculously wet she is right now.

Eventually Donnie's whole body goes limp with a sigh, and he loosens his grip on her, a sated smile plastered lazily on his sweaty face as he tries to catch his breath.

"Wow... that... h-haha..." April has to suppress an uncharacteristic _squee_ at Donnie actually _giggling_ in his afterglow; man, she is really enjoying watching her literal genius boyfriend act so blissfully zonked out. _Hell yeah, April for the win._ Donnie pulls himself together enough to sigh dreamily and say, "that was incredible, April."

She has a sneaking suspicion that even if she had barely touched him Donnie would still think the whole thing was amazing and mind-blowing and incredible, but April allows herself to take the compliment anyway, dipping down to peck him between the eyes.

"So you're feeling better now, then?" She grins, still sweetly leaning over him as he cracks open his eyes to stare at her in wonder.

He opens his mouth to answer, but when the words don't come to him, he settles on weaving his thick fingers through her hair and slowly, gently pulling her down into a liplock that isn't _quite_ as gentle. Donnie pours his whole being into the kiss, and she can feel all the emotions he couldn't voice spilling over and hitting her in waves: the shiver-inducing warmth of satisfaction, the humble thrum of gratitude, that sharp spike of stunned disbelief, and just an _ocean_ of pure, no-strings-attached adoration. April eagerly lets herself drown in it, tilting her head and kissing him back just as passionately, her fingers yanking the tails of his mask to pull him in as close as possible. In an uncharacteristic display of forwardness, Donnie's hands glide smoothly down over her PJ shorts to give her rear a confident squeeze, and April finds herself moaning quietly into his mouth.

Their lips smack wetly as they break apart, both of them panting.

"W-well then. I'm going to assume that's a yes."

Donnie laughs shyly, averting his eyes and swiping his tongue across his thin bottom lip. "That... would be an accurate assumption."

His hands move slowly up her body to cup her ribcage, his large, flat thumbs starting to draw reverent circles around her nipples. April draws in even, increasingly heavier breaths, closing her eyes to enjoy the soft touch, a fresh wave of heat creeping down her neck and between her legs.

"…April?" Donnie speaks up, after a minute.

"Yeah?" She sighs pleasurably.

"I, um…" Within the span of silence that follows, she can feel him mentally fumbling for the right words, his hands leaving her breasts to drift up and down her back a few times, trickle softly down her arms. It consistently floors her, how delicately he is able to touch her. "Thank you," he murmurs finally.

She opens her eyes to find him looking at her as if she's the most important person in the entire universe, so important he can't quite believe she's here in the room with him, his gaze so absurdly full of love that it throws April a little off balance. Donnie always has so much love to offer her, she can literally feel him brimming with it, all the time, and it can be a little intimidating to try and keep up with him. She knows he would never expect that of her anyway, but damn if it doesn't get easier and easier every day. April also knows this particular 'thank you' holds about a hundred times more meaning than some crass 'thanks for the handjob' sentiment it could come off as to unknowing ears... but she still can't help but giggle a bit.

"Aw, you don't have to thank me, D. I - ahem - _enjoyed_ it a lot, too."

He chuckles, a lopsided grin on his adorable green face, then draws her down into another kiss, this one less heated, but slow and tender enough to make her heartbeat speed up. She goes to cup his cheeks as she usually likes to do, before remembering the sort of mess she's about to splat against his skin at the last second, and jerks her right hand away.

"Ah, whoops." April sits up, reflexively looking around for something to clean off her hand with.

Donatello's eyes zero in on where she's holding her hand a little bit away from her, and his expression jumps from sleepy and lovestruck to horrified in about half a second. His face erupts in a deep blush as he abruptly looks down at himself, and her, and the sheets, taking in the full extent of the sticky mess between them.

"OH. Jeez. I am so sorry April, uh, let me just—" Donnie's voice cracks as he halfway sits up to join her search in a much more frantic way, looking beyond embarrassed. April lays her clean hand on his shoulder so that he goes still, touching the tip of her nose to his rounded one and gently shushing him.

"Shhh. Nothing to apologize for, 'kay?" She climbs off of him, heading for the bathroom, catching him staring at her chest when she turns to point at him mock-threateningly. "You. Don't go anywhere."

She turns on her heel, now feeling his eyes on the swing of her hips as he manages a timid, "okay…"

When she comes back into the room with a couple of dampened washcloths, Donnie is back to being all tucked into his shell. He awkwardly thanks her as she hands him one of the washcloths, then she gets to work on the sheets while Don avoids her eyes and cleans himself up, his eyes shifting over to her whenever he thinks she's not looking.

"There, see?" April says finally, laying a clean, dry towel down over the damp spot on the sheets. "No harm, no foul."

She crawls back into bed next to him, his defined arm coming around her as she snuggles into his side. Pressing her thighs together to quell some of the throbbing that is still _very_ much happening, she debates asking him to return the favor… although how she would word _that_ question, she has no idea… meanwhile Donnie is fidgeting next to her, like he wants to say something. She notices suddenly that she that can't even hear the faint background noise of the movie anymore. Donnie must have turned it the rest of the way down at some point.

An apprehensive throat clear breaks the silence.

"Hey," says Donnie.

April tilts her head up to meet his eyes in the dark of the room. "Hey."

He swallows, right back to looking entirely unsure of himself. Two angry New York drivers enter into a honk-off somewhere in the distance during the pause.

"Did you... I mean, I could…"

"Donnie?" _Please ask what I think you're about to ask. _

He moves to press his lips to her forehead over her bangs, one hand stroking up and down her arm.

"I… I want to touch you, too," Donnie whispers into her hair, his hand gingerly drifting down to her thigh.

_Yes, yes, yes,_ April's brain thinks fuzzily. The muscles in her thighs clench at the thought of being granted some relief, by _Donnie_, her breath gusting out her lungs sharply.

"...Is this okay?"

"Yes," April says with finality, parting her legs for him a bit and pressing an inviting kiss to his lips to really emphasize that _yes means yes._ Donatello moves his fingers to the inside of her thigh, caressing her there, letting the moment build as warmth continues to rush in droves down to her pelvis. She hears him suck in a breath before he starts moving his hand up her leg excruciatingly slowly, until his fingers are tucked against the crotch of her shorts.

_Ohhh my god. _

Helping Don get off earlier left her stirred _up, that's _for sure. The slight pressure of his oversized hand between her legs already feels so delicious that April can't help but grind down on it, her hips lifting, her bottom lip caught between her teeth to stifle a groan. Donnie starts, his jaw going slack, but then presses one long finger more deliberately against her through her shorts, gently rubbing back and forth between her thighs. April's eyes flutter shut.

When she opens them again, she finds Donnie watching her face intently, eyes heavily lidded, breathing almost as hard as she is. She whimpers for the few seconds or so they hold eye contact, before she has to squeeze her eyes closed again. She feels him fumble with the button on her shorts for a good 10 seconds before April comes to her senses and does it for him, hurriedly shimming out of her shorts and leggings until she's wearing nothing but socks and a plain pair of panties.

"Hooolychalupa," Donnie murmurs under his breath, his dark eyes raking over all her newly bared skin, enraptured.

The sight of her almost-nude body has clearly thrown Donnie off his groove, and he can't seem to decide whether or not he's allowed to keep touching her. April comes to his rescue by wrapping her fingers around one large thumb, pulling him until his hand is back to resting on her thigh.

Donnie gasps aloud as he tentatively feels along the damp crotch of her underwear. With a small moan April lifts her hips into the touch encouragingly, her face bright red. She knows how wet she must be by this point, and now Donnie definitely knows, too.

"_April_," he breathes.

He starts to stroke her over her panties with one finger, so gently, almost _too_ gently, but April doesn't bother to speak up with any guidance yet, knowing he's still in exploration and observation mode, scoping her body out like the scientist he is. Besides, it feels wonderful anyway; maybe not the way she'd do it herself, but it's its own kind of wonderful. Because this is Donnie doing this to her, _Donnie_, after all this time, after so many years of knowing and loving him, as a close friend and eventually as something much, much more. She closes her eyes to take it all in, the surreal newness of having him see her like this, touch her like this.

Soon the sensation of his finger between her legs is accompanied by the feel of his mouth on her breast, licking and sucking with all the enthusiasm of someone who is overly eager, if not desperate to please, and April finds herself smiling through an approving moan. Sure, Donnie may be inexperienced _now_, but something tells her that when it comes to her pleasure, this absolute genius of a turtle is going to be even more of a quick study than usual, and she'd be lying if she said the thought didn't make her giddy with excitement for the future. God, she's so glad they're finally doing this.

Guided by her soft sighs as well as the twitches and wiggles of her hips, Don's stroking finger manages to hone in on her clit. "There," gasps April, "right there, a-a little harder."

She can both feel and hear Donatello exhale raggedly against her chest as he immediately obeys to the best of his ability, the very tip of his middle finger circling her a little faster and with a little more precision. A whimpering sigh of his name triggers the turtle beside her into unleashing an urgent flurry of kisses wherever his lips can reach.

She can sense how hard he's trying, and it does feel good, _really_ good, but she knows she won't be able to get off like this and she needs more — she's just about gathered enough courage to grab Donnie's hand and finally guide it _inside_ her underwear, where she's wanted it all along, when an 8-bit tune crashes through the heavy, intimate quiet of the room, making them both jump.

They let it ring for a bit, blinking the worst of the lust out of their eyes, and when it doesn't stop ringing, Donnie drops his head hopelessly. "Oh,_ come on,_" he whines more to himself than to her, sounding like he could cry. April covers her mouth to smother a laugh at his excessive disappointment, while Don leans off the bed to snatch his T-Phone from where it lays on the floor, still attached to his discarded belt.

He squints at the lit up screen filled with Leo's picture. "Now? He has to call me _now?!"_

"You know if you don't answer he'll just keep calling," April says with a shrug.

Donnie just grumbles in response and sits up, accepting the call and pressing the phone against the side of his head. "I really hope this is _important_, Leo," he sing-songs through clenched teeth. There's a pause as his expression gradually morphs into something between incredulity and anger. "...What?! You can't be serious!"

Aw, freakin' sewer apples. April exhales heavily, the odds of Donnie finishing what he started tonight dwindling before her very eyes.

"No, no, the backup generator should have… how would I know that, I wasn't there!... Dude, it's really not a good time... okay, yeah, I heard you the first time, but—"

Yeahhnope. If Leonardo is putting up this much of a fight to get Donatello to come back to the lair, the sexy plug is definitely being pulled for the night. Swallowing down the frustrated noise bubbling up in her chest, April sits up groggily and stretches to retrieve her shirt and shorts from the end of the bed, pretending not to notice Donnie's face fall as he watches her out of the corner of his eye.

"I-I'm _busy_, Leo, can't you guys just hang tight for like an hour? I just replaced the batteries in all the flashlights, so it's…"

Another pause. He growls at the ceiling before his whole posture slumps forward in resignation, purple mask tails dangling limply over one shoulder. "All right, all _right_... no, I can be back in 20." Donnie doesn't try at all to keep the extreme irritation out of his voice. "Uh-huh. Bye."

He death-glares at the phone for a few seconds after he hangs up, as if willing his T-Phone to go back in time undo the last call that came through. April is already dressed by the time he drops his arm to the side and looks over at her apologetically.

"Duty calls?" She smirks.

"Well if by duty, you mean 'getting the power back on after Raph tried to fix it himself and ended up literally_ stabbing the circuit breaker box in a fit of rage_,' then yes, duty certainly calls." Donnie sighs and rolls his eyes. " _Un_-believable. They do realize that it's not exactly easy to find salvageable double-pole breakers in the trash, right?"

She pats his shoulder, scooting to hang her legs off the edge of her bed and sit next to him. "Don't worry, I'll make a trip to the hardware store for you."

"You don't have to do that," comes Donnie's automatic response.

"I know I don't," April shrugs, "still gonna."

He shoots her a fond, sideways smile, takes her small hand in his, and lifts it up to brush his mouth against her knuckles.

"I'm so sorry I have to up and leave like this," he mumbles, slumping a little further into his shell.

"It's okay."

"I know, but still. Tonight was, you know... _special_."

April smiles at that, softly humming her agreement. Donnie is such a romantic. If anyone else tried to say the things Donnie said to her on a regular basis she'd just think they were a cheesy sap, but for some reason Donnie's particular brand of cheesiness consistently has her heart melting.

They rise from the bed, hand in hand, turning to face one another and hesitating for only a second or two before they come together in a warm embrace. Donnie nuzzles down into her neck, brushing her silky red hair out of the way to place a small kiss there. April shivers at the feather light touch of his cool lips on her skin.

"So, would you want to reschedule the rest of," he clears his throat, still hiding his face in her hair, "movie night, sometime?"

"_Movie night,_" April repeats, raising an eyebrow at him as he straightens up. Donnie nods at her and grins innocently, the extra color in his cheeks giving him away.

"You know, D... we're dating, so technically we don't have to schedule anything. We can just watch movies whenever we want."

Donnie's face lights up like the dang sun. "Wh... r-really?"

"Mm-hm."

Don juts out his chin as if in deep thought. "Huh. Are you sure movie night really works like that?" He's keeping the joke going, but April can sense that the underlying question is quite genuine, and finds her face heating up in a blush.

"Yeah, I mean... it can, if we're in the mood. You know. To watch movies." Her eyelids lower into what she hopes is a playful, seductive expression.

"Right," Donnie laughs, rubbing the back of his head. "Awesome. Because I… I'd really love to finish _this_ movie at the first opportunity."

April smirks. "Oh, yeah?"

"Well, I mean, I'd like to try, anyway. I know I don't technically have any hands-on experience in… in film." There's a short beat of silence as Donnie's eyes dart off to the side and back a few times before he adds matter-of-factly, "the movie is you."

Aprils snorts with laughter, "augh, the joke is _dead_, Donnie. You killed it. Murdered it, more like."

"Ah ah, I made you laugh, didn't I? I'm counting this as a win."

"Ehh," she wrinkles her nose, "I suppose I'll let you have that one."

She's suddenly being kissed again, Donnie holding her close as if she's this precious, precious thing he can't bear to part from. He kisses her this way often, and when he would do it when they first started dating, April would sometimes feel a little at a loss for how to respond - it just felt like so much, just the _most_, and what made her so special anyway, to be so utterly cherished by another person like that? But now, April is able to not only better understand it, but also happily embrace it without a second thought. Now that she's accepted it, she's realizing how great it feels, to be this loved.

Donnie eases back, April's mouth following his for a second before her eyes slowly blink open, only to be met with the goofiest, most positively _thrilled_ smile on Donnie's face - so adorably genuine that she can't help but giggle. He laughs too, letting his forehead tilt forward to rest against hers.

"I… I should probably head out," he breathes in a dreamy whisper.

"Probably." April smooths her thumbs over the edge of the worn purple fabric around his eyes. "Text me when you get home?"

"Absolutely."

They indulge in one last peck on the lips before Donnie reluctantly steps away to the window leading to her fire escape, picking up his bo along the way and effortlessly spinning it into the holster on his back. He lifts it open and places one bulky foot on the sill, pausing to look back over his shell and give her a wink. It's a cheese-tastic gesture, yeah, but April can't help but notice that there's a refreshing air of confidence about her boyfriend that wasn't there an hour or so ago, one that kind of really gets her blood pumping, if she's being honest.

"Until tomorrow, my sweet, sweet chinchilla," Donnie practically waxes poetic through a cheeky, gap-toothed smile.

April folds her arms. "Hey. We agreed that if you must refer to me as a chinchilla, you call me a lethal one."

Don clicks his tongue and holds up a single ah-but-counterpoint finger, "lethal _and_ sweet."

She laughs and rolls her eyes. "Okay, goodnight, you big nerd. Get home safe."

"Will do."

As soon as the window closes behind him Donnie swings back around, and they wave and beam at each other like dorks through the glass for a bit before he hops up onto the fire escape ledge, his eye line pointed towards the sky.

April lingers at her window, silently watching the shadow of a tall, willowy and distinctly turtle-shaped figure catapult gracefully onto the rooftop and out of sight. She's unable to keep the giant, probably _stupidly_ smitten grin off her freckled face, knowing with all her heart that tonight was the beginning of something _awesome_.

* * *

holy chalupa dawg, lol

But yeah thank you so much for reading, and any comments you might have would really make my day! Peace ya'll


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